Sweet Nonna Anna March 14, 1916 ~ Sept 14, 1999That Fall day, in that little church not far from Pompeii, I totally lost it - sobbing without understanding: How could she die the morning she was finally being released from the hospital?? - I had just spoken to her the day before and she said she'd see me soon ~ my plane ticket to go back to Italy was already booked to fly out there in 3 weeks...this was beyond comprehension..I mean dying on THE day she was being released??

After 6 weeks in a few hospitals (she had been transferred a couple of times) she was finally being discharged, and she had just told my grandpa that morning "I'll see you at home soon"....I didn't get it. I didn't want to get it - it made no sense to me. It couldn't be!! It seemed so unfair. (I was 27, still operating in that paradigm..)

My grandma Anna helped raise me and taught me the quality of tough love, compassion, discipline, fun, hard work, laughter, sweetness...all qualities that I hope to remember/express when I most need them :)

When October came and I finally made it to her native little village, a myriad family members gathered at the local church for the 1 month memorial service of her passing and I just lost it, sobbing uncontrollably there at the altar, so much so that after giving me lots of space & plenty of time, my mom had to pry me away... I left that church numb, mad, and sad beyond words.

As there are so many of us in town for the memorial service of Nonna Anna, there is no room for all of us to stay with friends and family, so my dad, my 5 & 6yrs old little sisters and I are staying two nights at a hotel nearby.

My 6yrs old sister and I are sharing a room and we wake up super early the next morning, which is uncustomary for us, so we decide to go to breakfast without waking up dad and baby sis who are still sleeping. The hotel is serving a magnificent continental breakfast and we are standing in line at the fancy omelette bar, happily waiting to be served.

Suddenly a deep pain comes into my left foot and as I look down, there is blood gushing, I mean gushing, everywhere! I look at my little sister behind me to make sure she is ok and, as I fall to the ground, she has the forethought to rush out to my dad's room to go wake him.

A hotel guest who is also having breakfast, a dr. from NY, rushes to me to apply a tourniquet and tells me "your artery has been severed, you are bleeding profusely and we need an ambulance; your tendon is also likely severed, you cannot walk, you need to be put on a gurney and transported out immediately". Sadly I never get his name, I wish I could thank him personally for saving my life that day.

I translate for him, the ambulance comes, see that the bleeding seems to have momentarily been contained and the EMTs ask me to walk to the ambulance, the NY doctor says no way, but as he does not speak Italian, so I am translating for him and the EMTs think I am exaggerating and tell me I should just walk to the ambulance because getting the gurney into that breakfast room will be a little too complicated for them.

After much back and forth, as I feel getting weaker and weaker from the continued blood loss and the zero food in my system, I do something I've rarely done: I literally yell at them to "get the freaggin' gurney down here, do your job and carry me on it to the ambulance - please", at which point they listen and they rush me to the local hospital, where family members follow me. This is my first (and last) ambulance ride and I have absolutely zero memory of it.

After I get checked in at the ER, and then admitted for urgent surgery, before I land on the operating table, I get moved around a few floors, transferred here and there as part of the pre-op... Now, I've never been in surgery before, but I am pretty sure you are not meant to be left in an empty hallway outside 2 shut elevators, waiting on a gurney, alone, in the dark by yourself, with no one around you (remember it's 1999, so no iPhones or anything of the sort).

All I know is that in that moment I feel what my Nonna Anna must have felt "get me out of here!!"

Eventually a staff member finds me, I do end up in surgery - they are able to reattach part of the tendon, but they cannot reattach the severed artery, so they simply seal it (huh?); my parents come see me in the recovery room and say the doctors have advised I stay one night for observation.

Against the doctors’ (and parents’) recommendations I sign myself out, I will not stay one minute longer in this place and go convalesce at my aunt's nearby house for the night. I cannot wait to get out of that hospital, and it's not even been 24hrs...I cannot imagine what those 6 weeks must have been for my grandma. And in that moment, I completely understand why she chose to leave, and I am at peace with that, and fully honor her choice.

Needless to say my fresh scar opens during the night and starts bleeding while I am at my aunt's house, so I get rushed to the hospital again, where they patch it up, and off I go...airlifted back to my dad's home, followed by 6 weeks of bed rest and daily syringes in my tummy to ensure my blood does not clot. Physical therapy, re-learning to stand, walk, drive...

All because one busy waiter in a far-away hotel was carrying two fancy crystal carafes filled with fresh OJ, accidentally hit them against each other, causing the base of one of them to break off in one thick single piece that fell sharp and deep on to the mid section of my foot.

Sometimes, especially when we resist the unfolding of life, it takes something sharp and deep to get the lesson, and accept...and allow...and welcome the unfolding ~

Good bye to sweet Nonna Anna. Your spirit is always with me, especially today as it would have been your 98th birthday...thought about you lots today, and often since your passing almost 15 years now...Thank you for teaching me SO much, especially the value of tough love, compassion & consistency amongst so many of the great virtues you embodied.. You were/are such a deep impact, that when I recently became a US citizen and was given the option to have a name change, I added yours, Anna, as my middle name. Thank you for raising me and always being with me. To our grandmas!!

(after my grandpa passed too, I asked my family for the clock in this picture ~ I love seeing hang it on my wall and reminding me to accept, allow and welcome the unfolding of life)